


tachiagare

by RonnieSilverlake



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Depression, Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:31:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3248099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>put your back against the wall. or against someone else's back. <i>breathe.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	tachiagare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iceberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceberry/gifts).



> i wrote this like 2 years ago and i have no idea why i never uploaded it. it sort of felt incomplete at the time, i think, but in retrospect, that's probably what makes it just fine.
> 
> dedicated to abby, because my entire love for inazuma eleven is dedicated for her (and because she's the empress of mamoterushuu)

"Sometimes, I just want to take a break from everything," Endou hears. He's probably not supposed to, what with Gouenji and Aphrodi talking in the bedroom, and him sprawled out on the sofa (though they'd been kind enough to mute the TV in order to keep him asleep, perhaps they should have left it on so he doesn't wake to the conversation instead).

"Don't say it like that," he hears Gouenji's low voice, soothing, and Endou can just imagine the way his palm moves up Aphrodi's spine, drawing little circles around each lump of vertebrae with the pads of his fingertips. He smiles into the cushion pillows.

"That's how I feel, though!" Aphrodi's voice raises a little, both in height and in volume, and Endou's smile fades as quickly as it came. He isn't sure why he isn't moving, but there is something that keeps him paralyzed, frozen in place, just listening, knowing that sometimes - as hard as it is to make himself accept that - not even his enthusiasm and optimism can turn things upside down. At times like those, Gouenji is the one to turn to, the sensible one, the solid rock, the foundation. Still, why is it so hard to even curl a finger? "Don't-... _patronize_ me like that! It doesn't always just... go away."

And now Endou knows why.

He's scared.

Gouenji murmurs something that Endou can't quite make out; it sounds apologetic, yet still kind and soothing, and the fear that has been clutching the brunet's stomach heightens when he hears Aphrodi's shrill response. "You're just making it _worse_! I'm not _supposed_ to feel like this, don't make it sound like it's okay when it's not-...!"

Gouenji doesn't reply this time, and Endou can clearly visualize the stunned expression on his face. Gouenji is rarely ever speechless, out of the three of us, him the least, and perhaps that thought is what prompts Endou to finally sit up, fingers running through his messed up hair, teeth momentarily grinding together as he tries to muster up enough courage to _reach_.

Aphrodi looks up at him with something hollow in his eyes, and Endou isn't sure whether he can put a finger on it, but he gets the feeling that Aphrodi is probably a bit scared, too. Of what, it would be hard to tell, but... they've all known for a long while now, that life itself can be frightening. He knows there's a part of Gouenji that wants to call Yuuka every day just to know she's going to answer the phone, and there is a part of Aphrodi that hesitates for a split second before stepping in front of the mirror, only to be relieved to see that the capillaries in his sclera are the way a healthy person's should look like, and there is a part of himself that constantly wants to sleep in the middle (even though it's selfish), and on his stomach (even though it's hella uncomfortable), just so he can have his arms around both of them, as if it was a surefire way to make absolutely sure they would both be waking by his side next morning.

Aphrodi looks at him like he doesn't really want to hear what he has to say, and Endou finds that he really doesn't have much to say; not what he usually would, at least. Even the happy-go-lucky optimist tires of being so sometimes, and his mother kneeling in front of her father's picture with her hands clasped over her mouth is also an image that won't ever erase itself from Endou's mind - he remembers how he barely managed to back away without his footsteps making a sound, because there was this inexplicable, instinctive feeling about just _having to let things be_.

Gouenji looks more surprised than Aphrodi does, when Endou simply takes a seat on the other side of the blond, without uttering a single word. Where's the goalkeeper that can never shut up? Gone on vacation?...

Endou thinks he's exactly where he needs to be; especially when Aphrodi's face is burrowing into his shoulder, golden locks falling everywhere, and it is not long before Gouenji follows suit, wrapping up the midfielder into sheer warmth from the other side.

Perhaps there are words they could say; that **there is no need to feel bad about feeling bad** , and not just because everyone has those days, but because everyone is just as entitled to their feelings as the next person - or that the people who love you won't simply up and leave only because it was a little harder to cheer you up - or that things change a little every day. But there is no point, because Aphrodi already knows all that; it's just easy to forget, sometimes.

Perhaps Endou will repeat all of these another day, or perhaps he will be the one in need of hearing it, but, for now, silence is comfortable enough, with his fingers tangling themselves into honey-coloured, silk-soft hair (those knots will be difficult to work out), lips pressing against the closest surface of skin they can reach, because this kind of silence is full of the knowledge of how many things they've been through, how many more things there are to come, more of laughter, and tears, and _everything_ that is life, and there is no way either of them is getting out.

Perhaps this way, it's a little less scary, too.


End file.
